Learning to Trust
by MadHatter0542
Summary: Short, one-shot about Gale and Katniss hunting in the forest, taking place about a week after they first meet and both start hunting. This would be their seventh or eighth time meeting. I hope you enjoy, and if its a bit off character, then oh well.. R


**LEARNING TO TRUST**

I trek the woods for prey in an echoed silence, my bow in my hands, feeling a little less awkward than usual. The feel of it in my hands, without the strong hands of my father around them feels… Strange. Unprotected. Bare. It's unsettling to a hunter.

I hear a twig snap, and jerk my head to the side, looking for the unlucky animal. It's a fox. It's not great meat, but the pelt is worth it. And food is food. I cock an arrow and let it fly. It hits the fox at the same time the animal gets pulled up into a snare.

"What the heck?" I mutter. I don't set snares… Then I remember. Gale Hawthorne does. That's when he materializes out of a tree somewhere to my right. Speak of the devil.

"I think that qualifies as mine," He says. He carries only his (as far as I can tell) empty game bag and a small knife that must've come from his house.

"Nice try," I reply, "I shot that."

"Then how come it's in _my _snare?"

"Why is _my _arrow in its side?" I haven't managed to get all my shots through the eyes like my father could. I'm working on it.

"Touché. Put it this way, I have more mouths to feed. I need it."

"Go check the rest of your snares. I've walked around for miles and this is the first thing I've seen. I still need to feed my family."

"Oh Catnip-"

"My name is Katniss!"

He chuckles at my scowl. "Katniss, Catnip, whatever. I'll make a deal with you."

He has _no _idea how hard it is to strike a bargain with me. "Try me."

"We both hunt for the rest of the day-"

"I wasn't planning on stopping-"

"And whoever gets more game gives the fox to the other person."

Is he mental? "How do I know that you won't sneak back here, take the fox, and go home?"

"Because we will hunt together."

_Yes, he is mental,_ I decide. I laugh quietly. "No. I hunt alone. You'll scare the prey away."

"You said not even two minutes ago that this fox is the only thing you've seen all day!"

"Go away Hawthorne!" I yell at him.

"No, Catnip!" He yells back at me with equal strength.

"You are infuriating!"

He grins. "I know."

"Shut up. I'm trying to find something to eat."

He leans up against a tree while search for something. Even a squirrel would be good enough. I don't trust myself with the plants that I can't identify after examining it for about a minute. I feel like I'm going to pick something poisonous and get Prim sick. But I'm improving.

"Hey Catnip, look over there. In that tree, to your right." He points to an old oak tree, where I see a fat squirrel. I shoot an arrow at it, and without a falter, it hits the squirrel dead-on, piercing its neck. It's a better shot then the ones I usually make. I watch as the squirrel falls from its perch in the tree, and go to retrieve it. I carefully remove the arrow from its neck, and wipe the blood off on the grass. As I turn to stand up, I see that Gale is standing over my shoulder, smirking. I swear that kid can glide across the forest for all the sound he makes…

I crouch, staring into his clear grey eyes. Rolling my eyes, I say, "Thank you, Hawthor- I mean Gale."

He just nods, then his back straightens, as if he's listening for something. I hear a faint cracking sound. I get up and start walking towards it. Gale easily falls into step as he walks by my side. We reach a clearing and see a grizzly bear and her cubs, on a search for honey or berries. I turn to Gale.

"Do we take it down?" Wait, were did '_we'_ come from?

His face grows serious. He's weighing the options. "Let's follow it first, see if it leads us to some other food sources, gather what she shows us, and then take her down."

"Sounds like a plan."

We silently stalk the bear and her cubs. She takes us to a more populated, you could say, part of the woods. I take down a rabbit. I see, and miss, a wild turkey. Swearing under my breath, it runs away. Gale takes no note and continues to follow the bear. I put the dead animal in my game bag and quickly take after him. This time, it's me who falls into his step.

He stops abruptly, and holds his arm out, blocking me from moving.

He curses. "I think she's got our scent," He whispers. As if on cue, the mother bear turns and stares at the place we're standing. I back up, and pull on his arm, trying to get him to do the same. He understands and slowly backs away. After about twenty feet of just walking backwards, we simultaneously turn around and sprint. I go the left, and I think he turns right. I end up at a clearing with a rock. Not even a moment later, Gale makes his entrance, gasping for air. I sit on the rock, regaining my own breath. He walks over to me and collapses dramatically on the rock. My only response is an eye roll.

It's then that I realize that the sun is setting, and that a brilliant orange light is covering the entire forest. I rummage through my game bag, checking my two kills. I notice, with a small lurch in my stomach, that my newfound partner's bag is empty. I remember the occasion where I first met him, at the same ceremony after my –our fathers, both perished in that mine explosion. I remember how his family, two boys and the mother looking very much pregnant, huddled together, clothes hanging dully off their thin bodies. My family was but a bit better. With idle hands, Gale fidgets with the zipper of his bag.

"The fox is all yours, you need it." I say a bit nonchalantly. He gives a grateful smile, not seeming like a man of many words. We both stand up and start making our silent way through the woods, Gale leading us along what he calls a snare line. He doesn't like that they all come up empty, and mutters something about not being as good as his father was. He collects the fox, and returns my arrow. As silently as before, we walk to the fence and go under it. As we part our separate ways, I turn around.

"Hey, Haw- Gale," I call over to him

"Yes?" His response sounds tired.

"Er, thanks."

"For what?"

"Just watching my back,"

He smiles at this, and calls back one final reply: "Anytime, Catnip."


End file.
